Hidden Away
by BluePhoenix14
Summary: Daenerys and Viserys Targaryen never fled across the sea. Instead they stayed in Westeros, flitting from one place to another, forever in fear of the Usurper. But, whilst hiding in the North, they are discovered by a certain bastard boy. Instead of uncovering them, Jon Snow vows to protect them, and they accept him with open arms. But Daenerys may find her heart is open as well...
1. Chapter 1 - The Bastard of Winterfell

**Hello! And welcome to this fanfic!**

**NOTE: I have changed their ages, and made it so that the Stark children found their direwolves 2 years earlier than they actually did. This part of the story happens 2 years before the beginning of A Game of Thrones. They WILL get older as the story progresses.**

**Here are their changed ages, (when Jon finds the Targaryens):-**

**Jon = 12**

**Daenerys = 11**

**Viserys = 19**

**Robb = 12**

**Sansa = 9**

**Arya = 7**

**Bran = 5**

**Rickon = 1**

* * *

Daenerys folded her dresses as neatly as she could and placed them back into her trunk. She was trying to stop shivering, but was failing spectacularly at it. All of her beautiful dresses were made of silk, or some other light material. She had heard that the North was cold and unforgiving, but she had heard that while still in the Southern warmth, where the cold was a thing of legends.

She had quickly found, as they fled here, that the warmest days felt here, were about equal to the very coldest days the south had to offer.

Viserys sat on the singular, hard bed in the corner, holding their mother's crown. He sometimes held it for hours at a time, just staring at it. Daenerys wished that she knew what he was thinking, but she didn't have a clue. She found she was never able to sit on the bed during the day, as Viserys often occupied it. It always seemed to be Daenerys doing any work that needed to be done, while Viserys slunk around and shouted at her. She lived in fear, even around her own brother, someone who should have protected her, and comforted her, was the primary cause of her fear.

Or perhaps he was only the secondary reason.

The threat of the usurper always hung over her head. Viserys had told her that Robert Baratheon wanted them dead because of their older brother Rhaegar. Apparently he had abducted Robert's betrothed, Lyanna Stark, and started a war.

_Things never seem to end well for the Targaryens. My brother died at the Trident, my father betrayed and killed, even Elia Martell, Rhaegar's first wife, was murdered along with her children._

And the last of her family resented her for causing their mother's death.

Daenerys pushed those thoughts away, then turned, having finished her task, and allowed her eyes to sweep the cabin.

It was small, clearly built to house only a single person, but she and Viserys were forced to share it.

Its walls were made of wood planks, but nearly all of them were uneven, leaving gaps in the wood, some wide enough for Daenerys to look through. There were no windows, so the gaps served as substitutes. The door hung loosely on its hinges, and even when closed, draughts were felt around the sides. The floor was hard-packed dirt, and in the centre of the room, a shallow, circular pit had been dug to serve as a fire-pit. It was ringed with stone bricks, and a few charred logs still lay inside.

The roof was thatched, but in some parts had been replaced with wood, tar, and what might even have been clay. It sagged, and whenever it rained, water would seep through all the layers and drop onto the floor. Daenerys and Viserys could only be thankful that it snowed far more often than it rained, whether it be a light or heavy fall.

The cabin was square, maybe 4 or 5 metres to each side. A bed was shoved into the top left corner from the door. It had a thin wooden frame, and a hard mattress that was just wide enough for Viserys and herself to share. There was but one long pillow, which was under-stuffed and musty. There was a blanket made of overlapping furs all sewn together, and a thinner blanket beneath it made of scratchy brown wool. Despite having two blankets, Daenerys fell asleep shivering more oft than not, Viserys crushed up against her side. Across the room from the bed sat a cabinet where they kept all their food, even though most of it had gone bad or stale. A trunk sat at the foot of the bed, within which was all of their clothing, hers on the left, Viserys' on the right. The only other item in the room was a vaguely circular hemp rug that sat on the floor between the bed and the cabinet.

It was a miserable place, and though they had only been there for 2 months, Daenerys already hated it. They had found it abandoned, and had made it their next place of refuge.

_It's still better than in White Harbour._

They had been reduced to cowering in the drains of White Harbour, with vermin constantly in their presence. Daenerys remembered one morning she had awoken to find a rat nestled in her hair. She had screamed so loudly that Viserys had struck her and said if she screamed any louder, Wyman Manderly himself was certain to hear them.

_There was a boat headed to Essos, we could have made new lives for ourselves, but we chose to stay in our land, Viserys' birthright. _

But a usurper sat the Iron Throne instead of her brother, a usurper who wanted both their heads.

_Now we are even closer to someone dangerous._

King's Landing was weeks away, and so was Robert Baratheon, but Winterfell was less than a mile away. Lord Eddard Stark ruled in Winterfell, and he helped Robert lead his rebellion, he would betray them to the king in the blink of an eye. She had always been told by Viserys that any of his children would also be just as treacherous, even though Daenerys had seen a glimpse of the eldest, and he didn't seem evil. In fact, from what she had heard, his children were wonderful, she told that to Viserys and he quickly crushed any hope she might have had.

"They will never help us." He had said bitterly.

How wrong he was.

* * *

Daenerys was a girl of just 11 years, timid and young, still innocent to the ways of the world when she met the bastard of Winterfell.

She had managed to catch a rabbit with a flimsy trap, and decided to cook it into a stew. She had at first been worried that Viserys would punish her for the rabbit's mediocre size and lack of meat, but to her surprise, he only congratulated her on catching it, and actually _smiled _at her. Smiling was a rare thing for Viserys these days. And it made her happy to see him smile. The stew was filled with other things such as carrots, potatoes, and she managed to hunt down some thyme to add to it.

They had but one pot, a little old and rusty, but it was good enough.

Daenerys placed the lid back on the pot, and turned from it humming.

"Daenerys, can you go and see if you've caught anything else?"

She only nodded timidly at her brother, pulled a fur around her and went to check.

The trap was empty, yet something had managed to weasel the bait out without setting off the trap. She sighed and refilled the bait, before turning back through the forest to head back.

She slowed her pace as she walked. She adored this part of the forest, it was most beautiful at dusk, but it was always nice to walk through it, it would be perfect if not for the stinging cold.

The trees were the tallest she had ever seen, stretching up as if to embrace the sky, branches interlocking and twisting. There was not a tree in sight that did not have thick green moss growing on its trunk. Every one of them had massive tendril-like roots that wove themselves all over the forest floor. There were a few logs on the ground, the skeletons of great, fallen trees that once had stretched as far up as the others.

A layer of fallen leaves blanketed the ground, each one in a different stage of decomposition. From them rose a musty smell that Daenerys often associated with decomposing plants. The leaves growing thick in the trees created a great canopy overhead. Sunlight filtered through it, with only small patches littered everywhere.

Her vision was an artwork of browns, greens and yellows. A smile spread across her face, and she couldn't help but want to dance and skip as she walked back toward their cabin. There were some days where she didn't want to go back. Out here was a world of discovery and beauty, and all there was back at the cabin was a sullen brother and hunger. But nonetheless, she emerged the woods in front of the cabin, sighing.

She heard rustling behind her, and whirled around her. She couldn't see anyone, but she felt the hairs on the back of her head stand up, and she knew she was being watched. She ducked back inside the cabin, goose-bumps up her arms. Viserys looked at her, frowning.

"Daenerys, what is it?"

She shook her head, straining her ears.

"Nothing, I just thought I heard some-"

At that moment she heard footsteps, and the sound of breathing.

She couldn't help it, she froze, heart racing.

"Daenerys!" Viserys hissed. "Come here!"

The footsteps froze, and Daenerys knew that whoever was out there had heard them. She remained frozen, she heard panting, then a snuffling noise.

There was a moment of silence.

Suddenly there was a scrabbling at the door.

She heard a voice.

"Ghost, stop, what's in there boy?"

There was a bark from what she could only assume was a dog.

The door opened.

A boy stood there, a dog, no, a _wolf _standing at his side.

He gaped.

Daenerys at first thought he may be staring at the crown, which still sat on the bed, but quickly dismissed that thought.

He was staring at them. It was only then that she became aware of what parts of them he was staring at, the parts of them that screamed _Targaryen._

His eyes were on their silver-white hair, on their purple eyes.

She knew it was over.

The boy swallowed, still staring at them.

"I know who you are."

"Oh, really?" Viserys sneered, "Who are we then?"

"Daenerys and Viserys Targaryen."

It had been Daenerys to say that. That one sentence that could have their heads on spikes before the month was through.

She raised her gaze, to the boy's face. She didn't want to admit it, but he was quite good-looking, with black hair, and dark eyes. He had what most would call a 'strong northern look'. She felt her face grow hot as she thought about it. He couldn't be much older than she was, maybe a year or so older.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice little more than a whisper.

"Jon Snow"

Viserys looked up at him. "I know you, you're Eddard Stark's bastard."

Jon's face grew stony. She knew that look well enough.

"What are you going to do to us?" she asked.

Jon frowned at her. "What do you mean?"

"Well your father is Robert Baratheon's friend, and he wants us dead, so your father will probably want to help him kill us, right?"

"My father only kills people when he has to, he doesn't _like _it."

"Really?"

Jon nodded, "Really. But first, can you please tell me how the last two Targaryens are out in the forest in a cabin?"

Daenerys assumed the role of storyteller, and watched as Jon's expression flitted between interest, anger, shock, bemusement, and frowning.

He frowned a lot.

"Are you going to tell them we are here?" Daenerys asked once she had finished.

Jon gazed at her for a long time, in such a way that it made her flush and look away, and eventually shook his head.

"Why?" Viserys demanded.

"Because if I tell my siblings you are here, they will tell father, then father will tell Robert, then Robert will find you and kill you. You guys are nice enough, and I don't want to see you butchered and lifeless."

He addressed both of them as he said the last sentence, but he never took his eyes off her as he said it.

"But, you guys might just die out here anyway. You don't have suitable clothing, bedding or supplies to stay healthy."

"What of it?" Viserys snapped.

"I'm just going to go back to Winterfell for something, promise you won't leave?"

Viserys grumbled out his promise, and Daenerys whispered hers.

They waited impatiently for Jon to return.

"He's going to return with men and hounds, I guarantee it." Viserys growled.

Daenerys begged him to be patient.

Another hour had passed until they heard the sounds of hooves.

They both leapt to their feet as the door opened.

They both breathed a sigh of relief when they saw only Jon in the doorway.

He had managed to steal some food from the Winterfell kitchens. He had also brought warmer blankets, two cloaks, and a number of winter dresses.

"I hope they fit you." Jon said as she held them up against her slender frame. Daenerys nodded her thanks.

"You know…." Jon said as they placed the new blankets on the bed. "I could try and bring you guys food regularly, and clothes when you outgrow the ones you have."

"You would do that?" Daenerys inquired.

Jon flushed slightly. "I will. You guys have suffered enough, no-one will find you here, and you'll be safe."

Viserys straightened up and looked Jon over.

"Deal, try and bring us news as well, that won't be too hard will it?"

Jon narrowed his eyes slightly at Viserys before agreeing.

The bastard of Winterfell mounted his horse and said farewell before riding off, quickly disappearing into the forest.

Daenerys and Viserys shared a look, a look that said _what have we gotten ourselves into?_

* * *

**WOO-HOO! First chapter done and dusted. Please review to tell me what you think!  
Also, R+L WILL NOT = J.  
I like reading those fanfics, but this one won't be an R + L = J  
Next chapter will be up soon hopefully.  
~SparkyDill128**


	2. Chapter 2 - How The Years Passed

**HELLO AGAIN!**

**Thank you to all the people that favourite + followed, and for reviewing.**

**NOTE: Not all updates will be as frequent from now on, but this will have at least 10 chapters. So this won't be a short, boring fic. This chapter is mostly about how the years have passed with Jon helping them &amp; other stuff.**

**Valar Morghulis ****  
**

* * *

**296 AD  
**

* * *

It started off shakily, with Daenerys being constantly anxious and scared that Jon would betray them.

At first it was irregular, he would bring food every other day, and occasionally some other things to make the cabin more comfortable. When Viserys demanded to know why he didn't just bring everything at one time, he told them that it would look very suspicious if he just were seen taking everything. Someone would question him, and take him to his father. Jon had told Daenerys that his family was already suspicious of him suddenly deciding to take rides at the crack of dawn. Daenerys had told Viserys that it would look strange if someone started to just take rides at dawn, taking clothes, food and kindling, yet returning without them.

Viserys stopped complaining after that.

The worst phase was the first few months. Daenerys could hardly look at Jon, she was that afraid of what he could do to her family. But despite her reluctance to interact with him, he was always kind and courteous to her, much kinder to her than he was to Viserys. She first spoke to him about six weeks after he started helping them. She was washing some of the pots and cooking utensils that Jon had brought for them. She felt Jon move next to her.

"Want some help?"

She looked at him, surprised, before silently nodding.

Jon pulled up his sleeves, scooped up a plate and began washing it.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, you know."

"I'm not afraid of you." Daenerys lied.

"Yes, you seem to be."

"Well…you could bring about our deaths, and instead you help us, it's a little suspicious."

Jon frowned for a moment, thinking, then smiled "Yeah, I guess it does look suspicious, but I am here to help you guys."

Daenerys turned to face him. "Why?"

"Because I don't want you to die."

She fell silent.

Jon finished drying a pot, and set it in the wicker basket where they kept the cooking utensils.

Daenerys finally got up the courage to speak again. "Well, I think you and I started out on the wrong foot." She turned to him, before holding out her hand. "I am Daenerys Targaryen."

To her surprise, instead of shaking her hand, Jon bowed and kissed it. "A pleasure to meet you my lady, I am Jon Snow."

Daenerys felt the blood rush to her face, and was certain that she had turned as red as a cherry. Jon stood back up, and grinned at the expression on her face.

"We… we should finish drying these dishes."

"As you say my lady."

Before Jon departed that day, he came up to her.

"It must get pretty boring around here, what do you guys do all day."

Daenerys couldn't help but flush again.

"You know," Jon said, hesitating slightly, "I could bring you some books from the library at Winterfell, ones that no-one ever reads."

She felt her face go even redder, "Yeah, that would be good, I mean, if it's not any trouble."

Jon gave her a crooked smile. "Okay then, I'll bring them next time I come."

Daenerys just nodded.

Jon mounted his horse and rode off again, hooves thundering on the rough dirt path.

When he came the next week, as promised, he had three books tucked under his arm.

One of them fully detailed life and reign of Baelor the Blessed. Another was a history on the bloody war known as the Dance of the Dragons. The last he had brought was a volume on the nine free cities, with a few notes on slavery in the east. Daenerys thanked him graciously and absorbed herself in the first book as Jon recounted what news he had heard to Viserys.

The books were like a gateway, they took her away from her life in the cabin and into a whole new place. By the end of the week Daenerys knew the names of all nine free cities, and their main trait. There was Pentos, Braavos, Lys, Qohor, Norvos, Myr, Tyrosh, Volantis and Lorath.

From just the third book she learnt also of the slave trade, its main partakers being Astapor, Meereen and Yunkai, where the 'Wise Masters' ruled.

Daenerys had heard of the vile war known as The Dance of the Dragons, but now she knew in detail what had caused it, who it's major influences where, and it's impacts.

It absolutely fascinated her to read of Baelor the Blessed, he was one of her ancestors, but she was a little amazed at how faithful he was, so faithful he starved himself to death, believing that things of this world were sinful.

She found herself babbling on and on to Jon about the things she had read in the books, but he didn't get irritated by her curiosity, he seemed to find it funny, and was constantly answering her questions. Daenerys found that she would often start a conversation about one of the books, but it would evolve, and soon they weren't even talking about books anymore. She would tell him about the places she had been, and he in return would tell her about his family.

She sat with him for ages, listening to tales to Jon's brothers and sisters. She adored hearing tales of Bran's love of climbing, and Robb's skill at swordplay. She would laugh hearing about Arya's antics, and Rickon's naiveté.

He also told her of his father. From what she had heard, he seemed to be a good man, at least, he was when it came to his children. Daenerys noticed how he never seemed to mention Lady Catelyn, or his sister Sansa. She asked him about it on one occasion, and he simply said.

"They are the ones that don't like me."

Daenerys wasn't stupid, she understood some people's views of bastardy, about how they were born of lust and lies, and of how many people believed all bastards to be deceitful, but if there was one person to prove that wrong, it was Jon Snow. He was always kind and helpful towards them, though they had done nothing to deserve it. She thought that Jon was a bit solemn, but many people said that bastards grew up faster than other children.

_It's the hatred directed at them and their detachment from others that causes that_. _If people were only kinder, they might be able to live happy childhoods like everyone else._

Daenerys hadn't realised it until that day, but maybe that was why she felt so comfortable around Jon.

_He understands what it is like to call somewhere home, but still feel out of place. He knows what it's like to have people who love you, and people that loathe you. No doubt Catelyn and Sansa Stark are part of the latter category. _

Daenerys had never truly had a place to call home, but she couldn't imagine having a home filled with people that despised you. Jon had told her it wasn't just the ladies of the Stark family (apparently Arya refused to be called a lady) but the servants were always whispering, and their ward, Theon Greyjoy, constantly tormented him.

_One day they are going to realise how cruel they all are, and then they'll be begging for forgiveness. _

Jon gazed up at the dusk sky, streaked with purples and reds and oranges of all different shades.

"I had best be getting back, or Lady Stark will get suspicious."

Daenerys nodded.

"You know, she can't torment you forever, and she should blame your father, not you."

Jon gave her one of his long stares, then smiled sadly.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

Jon pulled himself onto his grey gelding, then turned back.

"I'll bring a map next time, then you can see everything in Westeros."

Daenerys smiled at the prospect.

* * *

**297 AD**

* * *

It seemed amazing that Jon had been helping the Targaryens for over a year. They had fallen into a regular routine. He would bring a basket of food every week, and news for Viserys every two weeks. He had also been able to take some dresses from a serving girl that no longer fit. Daenerys had grown quickly, and the other dresses were too small for her. Despite her quick growth though, she was still much shorter than him. He knew how that infuriated her. The fact that she could grow so much and still be half a head shorter.

_She is growing quickly though, for a girl of ten and two._

The hardest part of helping the siblings was not getting the food and supplies, as Jon had thought, but keeping it secret from his siblings.

It almost hurt to keep such a momentous secret from Arya, Robb and Bran.

They were his siblings, and the only ones of the 5 of them that cared for him. Rickon was only two years old, and Sansa took her mother's side with _everything,_ including Jon.

She was always just called him her 'half-brother' and even though, in truth, that's what he was, Sansa said it in a way that suggested she wished he wasn't.

But that was still kinder than the treatment he got from her mother.

Just three days ago, Jon had been walking down the hall to his room, when Lady Stark came flying out of her bedchamber and slammed right into him. _He _had been the one to be knocked over, yet she glared at him, and hissed "Watch where you're going, Snow."

Not that it was unexpected or surprising in any way. Jon just felt wholly grateful to Lady Stark that she hadn't whipped him yet.

He had been surprised when _all _of his siblings had cornered him, demanding to know where he was going. Sansa included. He still remembered that conversation like it had been yesterday.

They had grabbed him on the way to the armoury, and pushed him up against a wall.

"Where do you keep going?" Arya had demanded, and even though she had been a girl of 7 years at the time, she was still crazy strong.

"What?"

Robb had repeated Arya's question.

"Why are you all so curious?"

"Because we want to know!" that statement had been Bran's.

"Wha-, you, Bran are 5 years old, and already you have begun to interrogate people?"

"It's suspicious," Sansa muttered, "You always go off riding early."

"Oh, what, Sansa, you're starting to care about me?"

Sansa had looked as though she had been hit in the face, then just looked ashamed.

After interrogating him for another ten minutes and receiving no answer, they eventually gave up and left him alone.

Lady Stark had been concerned about Sansa the rest of the day, she had had her head down, never looking Jon in the face. Naturally her mother came to ask him if he had done anything. Jon had only been jesting when he said the words, but they must have struck deeper than he realised. Sansa did treat him better after that little incident, but never as kindly as Arya, Bran or Robb.

The hardest part was getting the dresses for Daenerys. He had to sneak about, eavesdrop on the serving girls, but when that had failed, he had come right out and asked the girls around Daenerys' age if they had any dresses that didn't fit. They had just looked suspiciously at him, until he had lied and told them he was collecting old clothes for orphans. That had been almost worse, as they had all started talking about how sweet he was. It was a welcome change from walking past them whispering about him, at least this time it was good things.

One of the favourite parts of his week was going to the two of them. Viserys wasn't as insufferable as he had once been. The fact that someone was helping them, without wanting anything in return, seemed to have humbled him a little.

And Daenerys…

Daenerys was wonderful. If you took away the fear, she was kind, curious, interesting, intelligent and enthusiastic. She had adored the books he brought her, but they spoke of other things more oft than not. Their families, their lives and all of their interests. He knew her well now.

It almost plagued him, that she was a princess. That she was friends with someone like him, a bastard.

_Enjoy it while you can._

He lay awake at night sometimes, just thinking. Sometimes it was about Daenerys, more often it was about his mother, whoever she may be.

_She must have been beautiful, to make Father dishonour himself so._

Some people said that before his Father married Lady Catelyn, he had been in love with Ashara Dayne. Everyone said she had been beautiful and kind, and that she and Eddard had been together at the tourney at Harrenhal.

_Maybe…_

Even if Ashara Dayne was his mother, she was dead. She had thrown herself from the Palestone Sword, one of the towers at Starfall.

Jon was worried if someone were to go hunting and find the Targaryens. A plan began forming in his head, a plan to keep them safe.

_If it works, no-one will think it is suspicious._

His plan did work, for a time.

That was when things started to go bad.

* * *

**Done! Next chapter will be Jon's plan, plus things going bad. Ooohhhh! Yeah, the start of the next chapter will take place approx. 9 months before the start of A Game of Thrones, second part about 5 months before AGoT.**

**Until then, **

**Valar Dohaeris**

**~SparkyDill128**


	3. Chapter 3 - Alayne Hill & Brandon Stone

**Hello once more, time for chapter 3!**

**I AM SO SO SO SO SO SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY! I feel terrible leaving you guys hanging.**

**This chapter is dedicated to Serina93, if it weren't for you I may have forgotten about this story, so here are some waffles (#) (#) (#) (#) (#) :) **

**HUGE thank you to Slimcryptic, who pointed out my errors with the dating. Westeros uses 'AC' instead of 'AD' because they date things after Aegon's Conquest, instead of how we do. **

**Also, thanks to LS77, I forgot about that little loophole. You can make up a reason why Daenerys can read, but if you want to know, just assume that she learned when she was in one of her hiding places for a couple of years. **

**Also, some of the spelling might be weird to Americans reading this, but I am Australian and we spell things differently.**

**This happens about 9 months before the start of AGoT**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**298 AC**

Jon set down the bottles with a somewhat decisive thunk.

Daenerys and Viserys simultaneously raised an eyebrow at him.

"It's dye. Just wash your hair with it, and it'll turn it black."

Viserys opened his mouth to protest, but Jon cut in before he could say anything.

"And it's not permanent, so don't complain."

Daenerys looked at him. "Why do we need hair dye?"

"Well, firstly, if someone were to come in here and see you, your hair is a dead giveaway. Secondly, if you guys do use it, you won't have to hide here all the time, you can see Winterfell."

Daenerys perked up at the prospect. She had seen Winterfell at a distance, only about a mile away, and it seemed majestic, ancient, as though it would stand forever. Going inside and seeing Jon's home would be interesting. She then remembered hearing about Catelyn Stark, and her hopes sunk just a little.

"But what about our eyes?"

She was jerked back to reality at her brother's words. Of course, Viserys and herself had dark purple eyes. Not exactly something you saw every day.

However, this complication didn't dampen Jon's spirits, if anything, he grinned wider.

"I don't think anyone will notice your eyes unless they were purposefully staring directly into them. They just look dark grey, or black at a distance.

"Also," Jon continued, "there are lots of people with Targaryen heritage, and they have purple eyes or your hair, or even both."

Dany and Viserys exchanged a look.

"I don't know about you, brother, but I do not wish to live couped up like a mouse." Dany picked up one of the bottles, turning it over in her hands.

Viserys glared at her before grabbing the other bottle.

A few hours later, Dany stood in front of a cracked and spotted mirror, staring at her reflection.

Daenerys Targaryen was gone.

A completely different girl stood in her place. This girl was beautiful. She was clean, and wore a fairly decent winter dress with a black cloak thrown over one shoulder. She had dark purple eyes and silky black hair that tumbled down her back.

She was no longer Daenerys Targaryen, daughter of King Aerys Targaryen.  
She was now Alayne Hill, bastard daughter of Lord Galbart Glover, who had so many bastards they were often forgotten. A baseborn girl come to Winterfell seeking work and a home with her full-blood brother, Brandon Stone.

The story was that they were both bastard children of Galbart Glover and a washerwoman. 'Alayne' had been born in the Westerlands, and her brother born before her in the Vale. The pair had come north in hopes of finding work with good pay.

Daenerys turned back to Jon.

"Well," she said, swallowing, "shall we go?"

* * *

Winterfell was bathed in a summer snow when Daenerys saw it for the first time.

It was massive, a giant castle of grey stone, littered with towers and other rooms. Its height extended since its construction by the addition of layers to it. It seemed to big, so unbreakable, like it would stand for a thousand years to come, it looked like no matter what was thrown at it, it would always stand tall.

Viserys walked beside her silently. He hadn't been keen on the plan, but had eventually agreed to it.

Dany felt excited at the possibilities of what Winterfell could offer. She would be able to live life as a normal person. Also sparking her curiosity was what living as a bastard would be like. She would find out if what Jon said was true. She would find out how he was treated by Winterfell's citizens.

The air was heavy with the smells of baked bread, smoke, earth and animals.

It was a strange scent, but she found she liked it, it smelled like a city, and from what she had heard about the capital, a very _clean _city.

Jon gave them the grand tour, showing them the stables, and telling them which tower was which. He led them into the courtyard, where two men were sparring.

Jon led them around the perimeter, well away from the fight. Dany wondered what it would be like to use a sword. She had never even held one, and she guessed that they must be heavy.

Jon was just about to take them to the markets when they were stopped by a voice.

"Jon."

Jon turned around, surprised, but quickly bowed, "Father."

Daenerys had only seen Eddard Stark from a distance, and he was much more intimidating up close. He was tall, towering over her, and even Viserys. He looked strong and hardened, like winter winds had been weathering him for aeons. He had scraggly dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders, dark grey eyes the colour of approaching storm clouds, and a tough, strong face. He and Jon looked so much alike it was uncanny. Jon's hair was darker, and of course he was only 14, but the look was prominently Stark, and it was only now that Daenerys understood why the Starks were so respected in the north. She could have taken one look at his face and known instantly that he was from the icy frigid lands that southerners despised.

Lord Stark smiled, and some of his cold exterior seemed to melt a little. Dany knew then, despite what others might think, Eddard Stark truly did love his bastard son.

It was comforting.

His dark eyes swept over her and Viserys.

"I haven't seen you all day, I am guessing that these two are the reason."

Jon nodded, "I am showing them Winterfell, Father, and they are planning on living here."

Eddard smiled at them kindly, "Then, welcome to Winterfell, my lord, my lady."

Daenerys shook her head mutely, "Oh, no milord, I am not a lady, just a bastard."

Eddard shrugged, "Bastards, lords, peasants, it makes no matter, all are welcome here."

**(A/N: Sorry if Ned is a little OOC, I just have a hard time writing stuff for him.)**

Dany smiled happily.

"Well," Eddard said, "I will leave you to it." He clapped Jon on the shoulder and strolled away.

Jon gave them a half-smile and jerked his head towards a stone archway, where there were even more buildings.

"Let's continue."

He was just showing them the armoury when Daenerys met a second Stark.

"Jon!"

He turned at the sound of his name, and a young girl came up to him.

"Where have you _been _all day?"

Jon laughed at the exasperation in her voice and ruffled her hair.

"Just showing some people around Winterfell."

"Really?"

The girl turned to them.

Dany knew who she was immediately. She had his brown hair, his eyes, and his strong, slightly wild look. She could only be a daughter of Eddard Stark. She couldn't be any older than nine, and Daenerys knew this was Arya Stark.

Arya beamed at them.

"Where are you from? What are your names? When did you meet Jon? Will you stay here for ages?"

The questions flooded from her mouth like water out of a broken dam.

Jon's eyebrows continued to climb up his face, and soon he had his head in his hands, trying not to laugh at his half-sisters antics.

He reached over and placed a hand over her mouth, to which Arya responded to by glaring at him and biting his fingers.

Jon yanked his hand away, cursing.

Dany smiled at the young Stark. She could easily see why Jon loved her so much.

"Well, I'm Alayne Hill, and this is my brother Brandon."

Arya grinned.

"Our brother's name is Brandon too! We just call him Bran though."

Daenerys was surprised that the girl hadn't picked up on the bastardy.

_Maybe she did, she just doesn't care. _

The thought gave her comfort.

She could see why Arya was Jon's favourite sibling.

They continued the tour.

Jon was just leading them up a staircase when a stern-looking woman appeared from a doorway.

Jon bowed his head respectively at once.

"Good morning, Lady Stark."

Catelyn Stark gave him a somewhat stiff nod, swept her eyes over Viserys and Dany, then turned and walked briskly down the hall.

Jon bit his lip, then led the two back up the stairs.

* * *

The rest of Winterfell was just as beautiful.

Daenerys found the Godswood to be her favourite place in Winterfell.

She had never been the religious type, she'd never had the chance, or the time, to become devoted, but standing in the clearing, the carved faces on the trees staring at her, she understood for the first time why people devoted themselves to their respective faiths.

Peace.

Daenerys Targaryen had never felt more at peace than she did standing in the shade of those trees.

"Daenerys?"

She turned, shaking off her reverie.

Dany turned and looked at Jon.

"Ok, let's go."

* * *

Two months after the Targaryens had taken up residence in Winterfell was when everything went wrong.

They had managed to get a house, and had paid it off by working. Dany had become a maid in the castle, and that was thanks to Eddard Stark. He had seen what a close friendship she had with Jon, and had told her they had an available spot, due to one of the maids retiring due to a particularly nasty disease.

Daenerys was more than happy to take the job, as it meant she was able to see Jon frequently, if not every day.

Viserys had taken up the role of a blacksmiths apprentice, though he complained that he was used more as a slave than an assistant.

Daenerys often went walking out in the woods, back to their little hut, sometimes just sitting in there to think.

She also found herself frequenting the Godswood. It gave her a better sense of peace than anywhere else in Winterfell.

Spending time with Jon, she found, was another way to escape her troubles. He could make her smile and laugh no matter what the situation, and she found herself liking him more and more.

The day that everything changed was a holiday.

It must have been some sort of northern tradition, because Dany had never even heard of it.

Apparently, it was to celebrate one Northern king or another, to be honest, they all just got mixed up in her head.

The end of the day was celebrated with a hunt by the lords of Winterfell.

Robb and his father were going, but according to Jon, he wasn't important enough to go, despite the fact that Robb had begged him to come.

The men had already left for the hunt by the time Dany caught up to Jon.

"Hi." she said shyly.

Jon grinned at her, making her heart flutter. Damn her stupid feelings, but she had developed a crush on him, and she couldn't help it.

"Hi, did you see them leave? It was quite impressive."

"Yeah, it was."

Viserys came running over to them, looking panicked, a hand on his head. He grabbed both their arms and dragged them away from the crowd.

"What is it?" Jon hissed.

"The hair dye, it's started to fade!"

He removed his hand to show a section of his hair was dark grey, instead of the usual black.

"I have to go back to the hut and get it!"

"You can't go now," Jon whispered, "the men are out on their hunt, they'll see you."

"I'll sneak around them."

Jon opened his mouth, as if to argue, then shut it and shook his head in resignation.

"Fine, but be careful."

Viserys nodded, then turned and snuck out the gate when no one was looking.

* * *

Viserys didn't return, and even though it did take a long time to walk all the way there and back, she couldn't help but worry.

Jon, as if sensing her mood, took her hand comfortingly.

"Hey, it's alright."

But it wasn't.

When the men came back in through the gates, they weren't cheering and hollering like they were meant to, instead they seemed rather subdued, and Daenerys knew instantly that something terrible had happened.

Eddard climbed off his horse, and scanned the thinning crowd. His eyes locked onto her, and he walked towards them.

"My dear, there was a terrible accident, your brother…" he trailed off, but he didn't need to say the rest.

She had seen what was slung over Rodrik Cassel's horse, saw the arrow protruding from its neck.

Recognised it.

Viserys.

* * *

**DUN DUN DUN!**

**Yeah, I really am evil!**

**I am sorry about the long wait for this chapter, but I have been so busy lately, it's not even funny.**

**I am starting a new story for Lorien Legacies, and if you haven't read that series, DO IT, it is soooo cool.**

**Question: Which is your favourite colour out of Green, Silver and Red? (X-MAS)**

**Please leave your answer in a review or PM me**

**~SparkyDill128**


	4. Chapter 4 - News of the Royal Kind

**Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry! I am a horrible person! School has been super busy, as well as me posting new stories and having to tend to them as well. **

**THANK YOU to Malyx Blackfyre! You are the world's most amazing fan, and I owe you a lot. Thank you for inspiring and motivating me to continue this, you're awesome. I would have entirely lost hope for this story, but you reminded me that there are actually people out there that like this. Again, thank you thank you thank you!**

**IN OTHER NEWS: I joined FictionPress; I finished a hell of a lot of books; and I now have a new favourite movie. ****_127 Hours _****is amazing! Everything about it is cool! I was seriously surprised that people fainted, vomited and had ****_seizures_**** because of the *spoiler* amputation scene. I'm only thirteen, and I was able to watch the entire thing through without skipping any. Anyway, cyber hug to Aron Ralston!**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE GIVE ME LOTS OF REVIEWS! They inspire me to write!**

**ALSO: YAY! This chapter is the longest so far, with a total 4257 words!**

* * *

Daenerys ignored the door when it opened. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, trying very hard not to cry. She knew who it would be. It would be Jon, trying to make her feel better. He often succeeded, but that didn't stop her trying to stay away from him. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to look at him. Jon's brow was furrowed with concern, and she was unable to stop the tears flowing from her eyes. He instantly moved to pull her into a hug.

They stood like that for a while, Jon hugging her as she cried. It took a while before she was able to pull away from him. Jon brushed some dyed black hair out of her face. She smiled at him. No matter what she had said, he had always been there to comfort her. Even when Dany had screamed and shouted, when she had told him to go away, he had always come back for her. Only now did she realise how primary Jon's presence in her life had become. Viserys was gone, but Jon had never left. It was true that Daenerys missed her brother, but there were some things she wouldn't miss. He used to beat her if she did something bad, or acted out of line. But she now didn't have to worry about that. She no longer had to live in constant fear of her own brother. Dany knew she had to be grateful for what she had. She had Jon, and a home and a job. Lord Stark had been so apologetic for what happened that he had promoted her to Sansa Stark's handmaid. She was happy to accept the job, as it gave much better pay, and it was much more fun. She got on very well with Sansa, and often spent time talking to her about various things.

Every day though, she would come home and cry about her brother.

Dany decided that the time for grief was over. She had mourned Viserys, and now it was time for her to get on with her life. She ran over to the window and pulled the curtains open, letting sunlight filter through the room and warm her face. She closed her eyes for a moment, smiling at Winterfell, already bustling with activity. She had a day off, and intended to use it to clean her house up a little. Daenerys hugged Jon again, but as much as he wanted to stay and help, he was wanted back at the castle, since he had duties to attend to. Despite not being a lord, he still engaged in the same things as one. Dany could tell that this greatly annoyed Catelyn Stark. She always stiffened when Jon was near. Lady Stark simply hated the fact that Jon was treated like Eddard's real son. Dany thought she should get over it, but of course didn't say a word of this to anyone but Jon. She would be flogged if she was heard saying anything like that.

Daenerys turned her mind away from Catelyn Stark and back to the task at hand. She decided to start on the outside. She pulled on a less lovely dress and grabbed some water and soap. She began scrubbing the walls, getting the grit out from the wood. After two hours, the house was clean, but her arms were aching. She ignored the pain in her muscles and walked back inside. After sitting and massaging her arms for a while, she began cleaning the walls and windows. It was easy enough, and she was finished this task much quicker than she had the previous one. She stood back to admire her work. It would do for now, and hopefully it would be a while until she would have to clean it again.

Feeling much more positive about the day, Dany moved about the interior of her house, rearranging furniture and dusting down cabinets and fixing up her bed, which had remained unmade for weeks now. A memory, unbidden, rose up and captured her.

* * *

_Daenerys coughed. The fever that plagued her now had held her in its grasp for near a week now. It had broken last night, yet she still was to stay in bed for another few days to recover. She was aching with thirst. Viserys opened the door to their cramped living room. She had relocated herself to the couch, wanting a change of scenery from the bland stone walls that had occupied her vision for the past 6 days. Viserys blinked in surprise when he saw her._

_"I wanted to be somewhere different." Dany explained before her brother could enquire. _

_"I never would have guessed. You've only been complaining for the last 3 days."_

_Dany giggled shyly, as only ten year old girls do, pulling herself into a sitting position so that Viserys could sit next to her. He did so, and leaned over to ruffle her hair. She ducked his hand, another giggle bursting from her lips. A grin displayed itself on her brother's face, and he raised both hands in a gesture she knew well. _

_"No!" she shrieked as his fingers begun tickling her sides. She laughed uncontrollably, writhing around on the couch as her brother laughed, though not so much as she. Daenerys attempted fending him off with her hands, and even her feet, but her efforts were quickly proved to be futile. Viserys was older and had longer arms than she. His barrage of action would not cease, and she found herself quickly winded, yet continuing to choke out breathless sounds of jocularity. _

_She wriggled from his grasp, darting across the room, pale hair streaming behind her. She felt his long, slender arms hook around her waist and lift her into the air. She squealed and begun cackling with amusement. Viserys repositioned his hands at a spot just above her hips, her most sensitive spot, and begun tickling her there. She collapsed, howling with mirth. Viserys eventually relented, and the two of them collapsed onto the worn rug in the centre of the floor. It took a moment for Daenerys to regain her composure, and even then, a few stray giggles escaped her mouth. Viserys cocked his head to look at her, and smiled in his unique big-brother way. It made her feel special, and loved._

_"Ah, I love you, Dany."_

_Daenerys leaned over and poked his nose playfully._

_"I love you too, Viserys."_

* * *

Daenerys started when she heard the knock on the door, and wiped her eyes hurriedly. It would do Jon no good to know she'd been crying again. He would just begin to worry himself over her, and though she would rather he didn't, she found it quite sweet.

"Come in." she said, hoping her voice didn't waver too much. As predicted, it was Jon that entered.

"Hi Daenerys. Wow, this place is spotless! How long have you been cleaning?"

Dany laughed shyly, privately hoping she didn't sound ditzy.

"I'm not done yet, I still have to clean the tables down."

"Well," Jon said, "I don't have to be anywhere. Would you like some help?"

"Sure!" Daenerys said, inwardly cringing at how eager she sounded. If Jon noticed though, he made no mention of it, instead picking up a wet rag and beginning to clean. She stood, fixed to the spot, watching his muscles move beneath his shirt. He stopped and turned to look at her. Dany turned scarlet and murmured an excuse before scooping up her own rag and proceeding to help him clean. She prayed he hadn't noticed that she'd been watching him. If he had… her cheeks coloured just at the thought. How mortifying that would be.

She pushed the thought from her mind, focusing on the task at hand.

They were able to finish quickly, since both of them were working. Jon stood and helped Daenerys to her feet before wiping his forehead. He grinned and surveyed the room.

"Not too bad, Targaryen, I'll give you that."

Dany raised an eyebrow before smiling. Jon turned and gave her a crooked grin that made her stomach flutter. She hoped her face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Come on, let's go do something."

She blinked, surprised, before smiling and accepting.

* * *

Jon tried not to grin too much as Daenerys filtered through the stalls, gasping in delight at the expansive collection of silk. Northerners didn't oft have any occasion in which silk may be appropriate dress, but it was still used for tapestries, summer cloaks and perhaps blankets and rugs. Jon knew that there were a few ladies that had silk dresses, only worn on the very warmest of days in the north, right at summer's peak. He turned his thoughts from the uses of silk back to his current situation, and, almost instinctively, raked the crowd for Daenerys. She was almost out of his sight. He swallowed the slight anxiety that had risen and wove through the people, making his way towards her. She looked up when he approached and gave him a smile that left him feeling warm.

"Hey." She said, running her hands over the exquisitely smooth silk, the corners of her mouth rising into the ghost of a smile. It was clear that she was greatly enjoying this. Jon tried to prevent his own delight from showing. He was delighted though. She was being herself again. After what had happened to Viserys, he had feared that he may have lost that gentle, free spirit forever – changed into one of grief and blame. But he hadn't though, and she had come back to the girl who rejoiced in savouring silk and fresh bread. An idea came to him, something he could do to brighten her day further.

He nudged her gently, to which she reacted instantly, looking up with a curious look in her eyes.

"I know something you're going to enjoy a lot, are you in?"

She giggled slightly, unaware of how it made his stomach flutter when she did it.

"Okay, but what is the nature of this thing I'm going to like?"

Jon grinned at her acceptance, taking her wrist to guide her through the crowds.

"You'll see."

* * *

Daenerys let out another small groan of delight. Of all the things she had thought the surprise would be, cinnamon bread was not it. There had even been a small part of her brain that had engaged in thoughts so dirty, it made her turn scarlet just thinking about thinking about it. But now that she was here, she wondered why she had ever doubted that this surprise would include food. Jon knew how much she adored the fresh baked bread provided by the various bakers. He also knew she had a certain affinity for spices, and that cinnamon was among those she liked the most. So naturally, he would introduce her to fresh baked bread with cinnamon in it.

And by the seven, did she love him for it.

She grinned at him, hoping there was no residual cinnamon in her teeth. There didn't seem to be, for he gave her a coy grin in return. That, or he decided to make no mention of any food wedged within her teeth. That small thought only increased her liking of him.

He had bought her an entire loaf, and after a moment of watching her eagerly consume it, he purchased her another. This had made her flush, and slow a little in her hunger-induced frenzy.

Jon had simply laughed when he saw that, causing her face to darken it's hue.

She had managed to get away from the stand before she began to resemble a cherry any more, though.

Daenerys took the arm offered to her by Jon, and, still grinning, followed him back to the markets.

* * *

Catelyn tried hard not to appear as stressed as she was. Ned just had to do it, didn't he? She thought. He couldn't leave a single soul alone, should they be upset. He had contacted Robert Baratheon, of all people, to tell him of the bastard boy killed during the hunt. Of all people he could have gone to for consolation, for forgiveness, and he chose Robert. He could have easily come to talk to her, or even spoken to the boy's sister, Alayne. Instead though, of sending condolences to the one who had truly lost something that night, he had confided in his old friend, who in turn, had proposed a royal visit. The visit wasn't going to accomplish anything, except perhaps making her more hassled than she had been in years. She would be the one organising everything of course. Ned would be busy with his usual duties as Lord of Winterfell, and she would have all the extra piled on herself.

She couldn't find it in herself to resent Ned though. He was looking to a friend he hadn't seen in years, and his excitement was plain to see, at least to her. Though he may maintain the stony expression, she would never miss the gleam in his eyes, or the happy lilt to his voice. Both of these things would have been impossible to see, except to a wife.

Catelyn merely smiled at her husband, who seemed so glad to know that he would be seeing his old friend in a few weeks, and decided that the rest of the family should know.

She sat by the window, staring down at the direwolf she had been embroidering into a piece of navy fabric. Cat had been looking for something to distract herself from the daunting task of preparation that sat ahead of her. Her mind once again drifted to the bastard girl, Alayne Hill. She had been rather depressed the past few months as she mourned her brother. Catelyn had seen her, and had stopped to offer her condolences, though she was not sure it had accomplished anything, the girl had just forced a polite smile and thanked her. She was quite sweet. Beautiful too.

Catelyn glanced out the window, and was surprised to see the girl who had occupied her thoughts so frequently of late, down on the streets, walking. Cat blinked, and saw that the girl was walking beside, and making conversation with, Jon Snow. A smile came unbidden to her face. She had spotted him and Alayne together, and thought it was kind that Jon was befriending the girl.

Catelyn took a deep breath. She had tried when he was a child, but Jon had just looked too much like Ned, too much like the woman he had been disloyal with, that she found no love for him. Recently, she had tried to be more courteous to him, to be a little kinder, but the boy seemed able to take care of himself. His constantly solemn expression only ever seemed to drop when he was sparring with Robb, or when he was sleeping.

_I suppose I'm responsible for that. _She thought. It was most likely her years of dislike and hatred that had aged him so. Catelyn felt guilty for it. No matter who his mother was, she had no right to treat him like she had, but Catelyn just couldn't find it in herself to love him. It was her eternal burden, and one she was sure only she carried.

With a shuddering sigh, she turned back to her embroidery.

* * *

Jon was surprised at the news of King Robert's impending visit to Winterfell, of course, but his greatest shock lay with Lady Catelyn.

She had called him by his name, and not even the usual 'Snow' that he had come to expect from her. No, instead, she had actually called him Jon, something she had done perhaps four times in his life. It wasn't a bad thing, if anything, it was a pleasant surprise. He wasn't entirely certain what had warranted this change, but whatever it was, he thanked the gods for it. It was not as though he was expecting Lady Stark to treat him as her own son or anything, but she had been more courteous to him, and even that was welcome.

Daenerys was happy when he told her about this change, but not nearly as excited for the news of the king's visit. Her face whitened when she heard the news.

"He's going to kill me!" she exclaimed.

"Dany, relax. The king doesn't even know that you're here. He isn't going to kill you."

"But what if he finds out I'm Daenerys Targaryen?"

"Then I'll run him out of Winterfell if he even thinks about touching you!" Jon said.

Daenerys turned to face him, surprised. She stared at him for a moment, quiet, then rushed over and hugged him.

Jon returned her embrace, and felt her shaking as she leaned against him.

"I-, I'm just scared, Jon."

Jon hugged her even more fiercely in response, knowing that he would do anything to protect her. He hadn't been lying when he said that he would run the king himself out of Winterfell. Truth be told, Dany was the first person he'd met who understood what it was like to not fit in, to constantly be alienated. Of course, it would be worse if anyone knew that she was here. But he was the only one, and Jon was determined to keep it that way.

News of the King's impending visit spread like wildfire, with people now rushing to fix parts of their houses that previously had been falling into disrepair, to dust their finest tapestries and scrubbing the outside of Winterfell's walls. Snow was shovelled away from the entrance, only to be replaced by a fresh layer during the night. People were greatly anticipating the royal family's visit, though they weren't due to arrive for another month. In this time the entire Stark household became quite excited, and nervous. Arya wasn't looking forward to having to wear lovely dresses while the King and Queen visited, but after a few intimidating looks from her mother, and a few words from Jon, she begrudgingly agreed to it.

Lady Stark had not stopped calling Jon by his name, which was not only a small joy for Jon, but he could see that it pleased his father, and Arya also seemed less aggressive than usual when approached by her mother about wearing a dress with lace sleeves. Robb wasn't as fazed by the royal visit as the rest of the city, preferring to spend his time honing his swordplay skills. Sansa was swooning at the thought of the eldest prince nearly all day now, and Jeyne Poole had begun to do the same. Jon mostly did his best to skirt around them when they were like this. Bran was spending just as much time climbing as he always did, as free as always. Rickon was too young to understand what was even going on, so he was just as he always was, blissfully ignorant.

Daenerys continued to uphold her excessive anxiety, though Jon repeatedly told her that she would be fine.

* * *

Dany's workload inside the castle had increased by a great amount. She was now working longer hours, though she was also being paid more for it, so she wasn't upset over it. The castle was being scrubbed up and down, whilst everything in it was cleaned and dusted. Daenerys had callouses on her hands from the number of floors she had scrubbed. She also spent hours at a time cleaning tapestries, and was given a large mound of lace, since she was one of the only people in the castle who knew how to clean it properly. She mended dresses, flags and curtains, she polished armour and boots, and she scrubbed every stone surface of the castle. And, every night, she fell into bed and was asleep instantly. Daenerys no longer had any time to think about Viserys, so she supposed that it was helpful. At least, she never had time to feel anything but exhausted nowadays. One downside was that she never got to see Jon anymore, she was always so busy. She did see him around the castle occasionally, and whenever she did, he would give her a crooked smile that would make her try hard not to swoon.

Two weeks before the royal family were due to arrive, Daenerys, along with about 4 other girls, was told to clean the great hall from top to bottom. The other girls she was with, Millicent, Alys, Theia and Hilde, were quite nice, if a bit talkative. Daenerys listened to their discussion of the latest gossip half-heartedly, more focused on a particularly stubborn dirt clod. She started when she heard her alias, and realised they were talking to her.

"Yes?" she said politely.

"We were just saying, you're quite good friends with Jon Snow, aren't you?" Alys asked. The other girls giggled, and Dany felt her own face grow warm.

"Um, yes, why?"

They giggled.

Millicent leaned over a little, smiling. The others continued giggling, but also leaned in.

"Have you kissed him?"

Daenerys felt like her face was on fire.

"No! Why would you ask that?"

Theia giggled again.

"Well, he's quite handsome, isn't he? At least, for a bastard."

Dany shifted, uncomfortable.

"Yes, I suppose so."

Alys opened her mouth to speak again, but Catelyn Stark swept into the room to observe their progress, and they were silenced.

* * *

The weeks leading up to the royal visit were the tensest Daenerys had ever experienced, and not just for herself. The entire castle of Winterfell was more high-strung than they had ever been. Chandeliers were being cleaned and cleaned again. Tapestries were restored, and hung in their full glory around the castle. Daenerys was a little disconcerted to see her new home changed so much, all for one family, even if it was the royal one.

A great number of maids had now been assigned to the youngest female Stark, purely to keep her from being wild. From what Dany had heard, they had unsuccessful as of yet. Daenerys was surprised at how much trouble they were having. She occasionally was a maid for the girl, and she was wild, yes, but she knew where to draw the line. Daenerys never had any true problems with managing the girl.

Catelyn Stark seemed to notice this, and personally went to Dany and asked her to rein in her daughter. It was Dany's belief that Lady stark should just be happy her daughter was safe and healthy, though of course she didn't say it, and simply agreed to try.

Arya was happy that Daenerys was being her maid, and though she was strongly opposed to the idea of acting like a lady while the king was visiting, she didn't give Dany nearly as much grief as she had the other maids. She even let Daenerys do her hair. Dany herself was getting more and more anxious. She wasn't even able to see Jon as often, because he was so busy helping with the preparations.

His selflessness was her loss.

Finally, after what seemed like years of waiting, the horn blew, signalling the arrival of the royals. Dany was up on her feet at once, shaking with nerves. She quickly dressed in her best dress, like all the other maids were doing, and ran into the yard to join the assembling crowd. She was shunted behind the Starks, since she was just a servant, but she did get to stand next to Jon, who, seeing her discomfort, took her hand and squeezed it gently. Her anxiety dissipated a little, Jon was always able to make her feel better. The Stark family, including a now very pretty Arya, lined up at the front.

The horn blew once more, and slowly, the gates began to open.

* * *

**Oh god, I am so sorry for the several-month delay, school is crazy, and it just slipped my mind, I have begun planning the next few chapters, so I have an idea of what is going to go down. Again, sorry sorry sorry, I am a horrible person for neglecting to update until now. Please forgive me.**

**You guys really are the best fans ever. Everyone, please send Malyx Blackfyre your love, if not for him, this chapter would not have been seen for another few months.**

**All my love to you guys!**

**~ BluePhoenix14**


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